


Not Even Famous

by my_mad_fatuation



Series: Not Even Famous [1]
Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bed & Breakfast, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-05 10:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13386168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_mad_fatuation/pseuds/my_mad_fatuation
Summary: Finn Nelson is one of the hottest pop stars in the world, but when he takes a vacation at a B&B "in the middle of nowhere," he is surprised that Rae, the owners' daughter, doesn't seem to care who he is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I obviously know nothing about the life of a pop star or what it is like to run a B&B. This is just goofy, lite, rom-com stuff.

“Is… Is this the place?” Finn asked, lifting his shades and examining the large house in front of him as the car pulled up into the driveway.

“It’s the Bouchtat B&B, Mr. Nelson,” said the smartly dressed woman in the backseat next to him, who looked up from her phone just long enough to read the sign on the house.

Finn shuddered slightly. He hated being called “Mr. Nelson,” even though he should have been used to it by now.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Nelson?” she asked him.

“It’s just, er, it looks a bit smaller than I was expecting, is all,” he said.

“We’ve booked the entire place, Mr. Nelson, so there’s nothing to worry about. No one knows you're here.”

“What about the owners?” he asked. “Who do they think I am?”

“I told them you are someone who likes his privacy,” the woman said.

“Thank you, Ms. Turner,” said Finn right before the driver of the car got out and opened his door for him. Finn put his sunglasses back on as he stepped out into the sunlight.

The driver of the car was already getting the bags out of the boot.

Finn hadn’t managed to get much sleep before or on the flight over from L.A., and he only got a few winks on the ride from Heathrow to the B&B—in the middle of nowhere in Lincolnshire—so he was exhausted and just wanted to crash for the night, even though it was only mid-afternoon.

He briefly wondered if he ought to help bring in some of the bags, but Ms. Turner was already herding him towards the front entrance. They stopped when a young woman emerged from the house.

Finn nudged Ms. Turner’s arm. “I thought you said you booked the entire place,” he said in a loud whisper.

“I did,” she replied, trying to keep her voice quieter. “She probably works here.”

He pulled up his hood and kept his head down as they continued towards the door.

“Need help with the bags?” asked the young woman from the house.

“Thanks, we’ve got it covered,” said Ms. Turner. “Can you just show us where to check in?”

The young woman nodded and led them into the house where they found a middle-aged woman waiting inside.

“Welcome! Are you the Turner party that booked all four suites?” she asked.

Ms. Turner took off her own sunglasses, though Finn left his on. “Yes, I’m Beth Turner. I believe we spoke on the phone,” she said, reaching out to shake the older woman’s hand.

“Yes, of course. I’m Linda Bouchtat, and I see here you’ve met my daughter, Rae.” Mrs. Bouchtat put her hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “You can ask either of us for anything you need, or my husband, Karim, who’s out at the moment,” she continued. She held out four keychains to Ms. Turner. “Here are the keys to your rooms. The number on the keychain corresponds to the number on the door.”

 _Thanks_ , Finn thought. _I never would have figured that out._

“Do you need help bringing your bags in?” she asked.

“We’re fine, thank you,” said Ms. Turner as the driver walked in.

“Great, well, I’ll let you get settled, and just let me know if you’d like a tour of the place.”

Finn, Ms. Turner, and their driver made their way up the stairs to the guest suites.

“Do you think she knows who I am?” Finn asked Ms. Turner as she handed him the key to his room.

“I doubt it,” she replied.

“What about her daughter?”

“I didn’t really get a pop music vibe off of her, but who knows?”

“I just don’t want her telling anyone that I’m here,” he said. “The whole point of this trip was to get away from screaming fans for a few days.”

“Look, we are paying—in fact, we are overpaying—for their discretion,” she said. “Even if she knows who you are, she’s not going to jeopardize her family’s business by saying anything, all right?”

“All right…”

“Now, are you hungry or anything? I can send Darryl out to get you some food.”

“Nah. I’m just going to lie down for a bit.”

***

Finn woke up, a bit disoriented at first, and looked at his phone. It was nearly dead, as he’d forgotten to charge it before lying down, but all he wanted was the time. Almost five in the morning. He’d just had a thirteen-hour nap. So much for a little lie down.

He urgently needed to use the facilities, and figured he could go for a shower while he was in the bathroom anyway, not thinking about how the noise might disturb anyone else who was sleeping.

Once he was out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, he rummaged through his luggage to find the charging cable for his phone and some clothes to wear. In order to charge his phone, though, he had to plug it into an outlet on the far side of the room, so he couldn’t even sit up in bed and play games until the others were awake. He wasn’t sure what to do with this time, but he knew one thing: he was hungry.

He hadn’t eaten since the flight yesterday, and even that had not been very appetizing or satisfying, so he looked through his bags again in the hopes of finding some sort of snack bar or anything to provide sustenance. But there was nothing.

It was then he remembered that this was a Bed & Breakfast, after all, so there must have been something to eat on the premises.

He crept out of his room, like he was a kid sneaking out, and down the stairs in search of the kitchen. As he walked through the dining room, he heard noises coming from the other side of the door at the opposite end. Cautiously, he went over and opened it.

He’d found the kitchen, as it turned out, though he was not alone. The young woman from yesterday was there already. She was wearing an apron and appeared to be kneading dough.

“Can I help you?” she asked without even looking at him.

Realizing that he’d just been caught, Finn stepped fully into the room. “Hi, sorry, I just, I was looking for something to eat and—”

“Do you know what time it is?”

“Yes,” he said. “Do you?”

“Breakfast starts at seven, so you can come back then—”

“Why are you… doing that?” he asked.

“I’m making the dough for the cinnamon rolls,” she said, as though it should have been obvious.

“What cinnamon rolls?”

“The ones for breakfast. Which starts at seven.”

“So you just decided you’d wake up super early and make cinnamon rolls?”

“I wake up every morning to bake. It’s kind of my job around here,” she said. “I should be asking you what you’re doing up so early.”

“I fell asleep as soon as I got here,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “Jet lag, I suppose.”

“You flew here? You sound local.”

“I was in America for a while,” he said. “Do you… not know who I am?”

She looked up at him and frowned. “You’re that Ms. Turner’s boy toy?”

“What?”

“I don’t know! I just thought she seemed a little old for you, but too young to be your mother, so—”

“It’s not like that,” he said quickly. “She works with me.”

“Okay, then.”

“But you don’t recognize me?”

“Why? Have we met before?” she said as she continued kneading the dough.

“No, it’s just… Never mind,” he said. “What’s your name, again?”

“Rae.”

“ _Ray_? As in Raymond?”

“As in Rachel,” she said. She sounded irritated, like she’d had to explain that too many times.

“Oh, sorry.” He laughed a bit. “I’m Finn.”

“I’d shake your hand, but I’m covered in flour,” she said. “And also I don’t shake hands.”

“That’s fine.”

Rae continued kneading in silence for a couple of minutes before adding, “So are you going to leave any time soon, or…?”

“Oh, right, yeah, sorry,” said Finn, realizing he’d been distracted watching her work. “It’s just, is there any way I could eat something now? I don’t think I can wait until seven.”

She stopped and looked at him again, and he thought she was going to yell at him. But instead she pointed at the desk next to him. “There’s the menu,” she said. “All the freshly baked stuff will have to wait, obviously, but I can do eggs or pancakes or whatever.”

“Really?” he asked, picking up one of the menus to look at. “I don’t want to be any trouble—”

“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” she said, though she smiled like maybe she was joking. Possibly.

“All right, then I’ll have eggs, I guess.”

“How do you want them?”

“Scrambled?” he said like it was a question rather than an answer.

“Fine. You can go sit down and I’ll bring your eggs in a minute,” she said.

“Okay…” He set the menu down on the desk and backed up towards the door to the dining room, but stopped before going through. “Can I just, you know, wait in here? Only, there’s no one else out there, is all.”

“And you can’t sit by yourself for five minutes?”

“No…”

Finn flinched when Rae whipped the ball of dough into a bowl with a thud.

“All right,” she said. “I don’t care.” She covered the bowl with a towel and went to the sink to wash her hands before getting a frying pan out from under the stove.

He noticed a couple of barstools at the side of the island, so he took a seat while she started to prepare his food.

He watched as she deftly cracked eggs into a bowl and started whisking them, and then sliced off a couple pieces of what must have been yesterday’s bread to put in the toaster. She did everything with such ease, like she’d done it all a thousand times before—which she might have.

“You’re very good at this,” he said, leaning on the counter with his elbows.

“You haven’t even tried it yet,” she replied as she cooked the eggs. “It could be terrible.”

“I doubt they’d have you do the cooking if it were terrible.”

“You don’t know that. This is a pretty shitty B&B.”

Her comment caught him off guard and he laughed candidly. “I don’t think you’re supposed to say that to the guests.”

“Probably not.” She scooped the cooked eggs onto a plate and added the toast before setting it in front of him with a knife and fork. “Need anything else?” she asked.

She sounded a little exasperated, so Finn didn’t want to risk his luck by asking for something to drink. He waited for her to stop watching him before taking a bite.

“Wow,” he said as he took another bite. “These are the best scrambled eggs I’ve ever had.”

Rae looked at him sceptically. “Okay.”

“I mean it,” he added with his mouth full.

“Thanks.”

“So, is this, like, what you want to do? I mean, with your life?”

“I don’t want to cook eggs for a living, no,” she replied. “I wouldn’t mind opening a bakery, though.”

“A bakery? Really? That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah… It’s never going to happen, but—”

“You don’t know that,” said Finn. “I never thought I’d be where I am today, yet here I am.”

“At my parents’ B&B?” Rae said uncertainly.

“I mean career-wise.”

“What is your  _career_ , anyway?” She said “career” in a derogatory tone, like she thought he was too young to have one.

“You seriously don’t know?

“Am I supposed to?”

Finn sighed. “Okay, don’t freak out or anything, but I’m _Finn Nelson_.”

She stared blankly. “Is that… supposed to mean something to me?”

“I’m an international pop sensation!” he said, finding himself a little annoyed that she didn’t know who he was at this point.

“Oh… I guess the name sounds a little familiar.”

“Of course it does.”

“Yeah, you had that single a few years ago that was everywhere—”

“Yes!”

“—And it was super annoying,” she said.

“Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about you fangirling over me, then.”

She looked like she was trying not to laugh. “You were worried about that?”

“Yes, I was, actually,” he said defensively. “I tend to have this effect on young women that causes them to scream and cry tears of joy when they see me, so…”

“Buddy, I’m twenty years old,” she replied. “I’m not exactly in the screaming and crying age bracket.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Okay, well, breakfast is all you’re going to get from me.”

“Some fans give me breakfast…” he said as he took another bite.

“Are you saying that you—”

“Relax, it was a joke,” he added quickly. “I’ve never… with a fan.”

“Okay, then.”

“Lucky for you, you’re not a fan, right?”

“What?”

Finn realized he’d taken it too far. “Nothing. Joke. Never mind,” he said.

The oven timer beeped, creating the perfect diversion to keep Rae from frowning at him any longer. She donned a pair of mitts and opened the oven, letting the smell of freshly baked bread waft through the kitchen. She picked up the loaf and tapped on the bottom, holding it to her ear. He’d watched enough _Great British Bake-Off_ to know that she was testing for a hollow sound to make sure the bread was done.

“Where’d you learn to bake?” he asked her as he continued eating his breakfast.

“I sort of just taught myself,” she said. “I learned off the internet, and also I watched a lot of _The Great British Bake-Off_.”

“I love that show.”

“Yeah, well, I picked some stuff up from here and there,” she added. “I’m okay at the breads and cakes, but the fancy things, like profiteroles and macarons, still scare me.”

“Do you ever make that sort of thing for the guests?”

“Oh, no, never.”

“Why not? It would be great practice!”

“They aren’t exactly breakfast foods,” she said. “Besides, I’m really terrible at that. Nobody wants to try my choux pastry, trust me.”

“I would. You should make some for me.”

“I’m not going to make some just for you.”

“Why not? I’ve booked the entire place for the week,” he said. “So you should cater to my every whim.”

“Definitely not, when you put it like that.”

“Just think, though,” he went on. “You make me some fancy French pastries, and then I go off and tell all my fans on Twitter about how great they are, and you suddenly have a bunch of customers lining up for your bakery.”

“I don’t have a bakery.”

“But you will some day, and you’ll already have customers.”

“Do people often do whatever you say just because you’re famous?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Rae looked like she was torn, trying to decide whether she should smile or frown. “I don’t even have all the ingredients,” she said.

“So you’re saying we should go shopping?” A grin took over Finn’s face.

“We?”

“I can’t stay in my room all week, all right? You’ve got to take me out.”

“ _Take you out_?” She looked sceptical again.

“I don’t mean like, _cklkck—_ ” He mimed slitting his throat with his fork. “Just, like, take me into town to pick up some flour or whatever.”

“Aren’t you afraid you’ll get mobbed by screaming fans?” She sounded like she was being sarcastic, but he couldn’t be sure.

“I figure we’re in the middle of nowhere, so no one will expect to find me here,” he said. “Besides, someone is more likely to recognize me if I’m surrounded by security than if I’m just with someone random.” He pointed at Rae on the word, “random.”

“That’s flattering, really, but I think I can handle shopping by myself—”

“No, you don’t understand,” he cut in. “They’re actually going to make me stay in my room all week! I _need_ to get out, okay?”

“Okay, fine! We can go after breakfast,” she said with a huff.

He shovelled the last bit of egg into his mouth. “I’m done!”

“I mean once everyone’s had breakfast,” she said. “The stores aren’t even open yet.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Meet me back here after ten and we’ll go, all right?”

“All right.”

She looked at him expectantly for a moment. “Now, get lost.”

***

Finn managed to kill the next few hours playing games on his newly charged phone, until there came a knock on his door just after eight.

“Yeah?” he called out.

“Mr. Nelson?” he heard Ms. Turner say from the other side of the door. “Are you coming for breakfast?”

“I’m not hungry,” he replied, rolling his eyes. He hated how she always treated him like a child.

“You didn’t eat last night, either,” she said. “You really need to eat something.”

He didn’t feel like explaining to her that he’d already eaten earlier, so he just sucked it up and went down to get breakfast with her and Darryl, the driver.

“Are you even going to look at the menu?” said Ms. Turner as Finn kept his eyes glued to his phone.

“I’ll have a cinnamon roll,” he said.

“How do you even know if they have—” She must have read where it said, “cinnamon roll,” on the menu, because she stopped talking.

“Morning,” said Rae as she walked in from the kitchen. “What can I get you today?”

“I’ll have the oatmeal with blueberries—no sugar,” Ms. Turner began. “And he’ll have the cinnamon roll, and an apple, if you have any.”

“Sure thing,” Rae replied. She took Darryl’s order as well and returned to the kitchen, but not before shooting Finn a glance that said, “Is she for real?”

To which he responded with his eyebrows, “I know, right?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn and Rae go to the nearest town to shop for baking ingredients, when a flyer for Open Mic Night grabs his attention.

“Your rolls are really good,” Finn said when he poked his head through the kitchen door.

Rae jumped a little and turned to look at him. “Jesus Christ! What?”

“Your cinnamon rolls. They’re good,” he said.

“Did you sneak up on me just to say that?” she asked.

“I snuck up on you so we could go shopping, remember?”

“Is it after ten already?” She looked at the clock above the stove for confirmation before taking off her apron. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Just one thing,” he added, raising his hand like he was asking permission. “You can’t let Ms. Turner know that I went with you, all right?” And she can’t see me leaving, or she’ll try and stop me.”

“Fine, whatever. We’ll go out the back.”

Finn followed Rae through the door on the other side of the kitchen, which had a keypad lock on it. It led to another part of the house that he hadn’t seen yet. It looked like another dining room.

“What is this?” he asked, scanning the room.

“It’s our dining room,” she said, as though it was a stupid question. “This half of the house is where we live.”

“Whoa.”

“What?”

“I never really thought about that. This is where you _live._ ”

“Yes.”

“Whoa.”

“Come on, the garage is this way,” she said. She led him down a couple of steps and grabbed a set of keys off a hook by the door to the garage.

He was a little surprised that the garage was so large—it must not have been visible from the front of the house when he’d pulled up yesterday—but it fit three cars.

Rae led Finn to the nearest car and he got himself buckled in.

“So, where are we going?” he asked as she headed out of the garage and down the long driveway towards the rural road.

“A store,” she replied.

“Yeah, but where is this store, exactly? It doesn’t look like there’s anything nearby.”

“Stamford.”

“And where is that?”

“About twenty minutes away.”

***

The trip into town was quite uneventful—they only passed a few cars on their way—but once Finn saw people on the city streets, he put his shades on.

“It’s overcast,” said Rae, glancing at him for a second.

“I just don’t want to be recognized,” he said. “You don’t have tinted windows.”

“Of course I don’t.”

He slouched in his seat.

“I thought you said you’d be fine,” she added. “You’re in the ‘middle of nowhere,’ as you so graciously put it.”

They were both quiet until Rae pulled into a parking spot on a street full of little shops.

“Here we are,” she said as she turned off the engine.

Finn got out of the car and followed her into the baking supply and bulk foods shop.

“You know it’s weird to wear sunglasses indoors, right?” she added when she looked back at him.

He did a quick check of the surrounding area to make sure no one was watching him, and removed his sunglasses. He hooked one of the arms into the V-neckline of his t-shirt. “So, what are we getting here?” he asked as he jogged a step to keep up with her.

“Almond flour for the macarons,” she replied. “And chocolate wafers, since I’m going to try to make eclairs, too.”

“Ambitious.”

“It was your idea,” she said, scooping some ground almonds into a clear bag.

He watched her grab a small white tag and a pencil from a container above the bins of baking ingredients and write down, “almond flour,” before affixing the tag and dropping the bag into her basket. She continued towards the back of the store and did the same with the chocolate wafers.

Meanwhile, Finn had gotten distracted by the food colouring, and returned to her with a bottle of red. “So we can make the macarons pink,” he said eagerly.

“Pink? Really?”

“Why, do you think it’s _gay_?”

Rae rolled her eyes. “Just put it in the basket,” she said.

***

Finn put his sunglasses back on when they stepped out of the store. “So now what?” he asked, following Rae back to her car.

“We go back,” she said as she climbed in and tossed her shopping bag into the backseat.

“We can’t go back already!” he said. “This is my first time out on my own in ages. I want to enjoy it.”

“You’re not on your own; you’re with me.”

“Yeah, but you aren’t babysitting me. Right?”

She let out an audible sigh as she clicked her seatbelt shut. “Fine. Where do you want to go?”

“Where do you like to hang out?” he said.

“My room,” she replied.

“I guess we could go there…” he joked.

She looked at him and scowled. “I mean, that’s where I like to hang out _alone_.”

“Okay, well, where do you like to hang out with your friends?”

“I dunno…” she said. “There’s a coffee shop nearby that’s pretty good. Good lattes, and they make a nice cuppa, too.”

“Let’s go there, then.”

She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, like she was contemplating it. “Fine, we can go for a little bit,” she said, unlatching her seatbelt again.

Finn got out of the car as well and Rae led the way down the street and around a corner to a little café hidden away on a side street. It seemed really dark when they got inside before he realized he was still wearing his sunglasses.

He got a bit nervous when he noticed that the baristas all appeared to be fairly young women. All it would take was one of them to notice him, and chaos would ensue, so he kept his head down. He nearly bumped into Rae when she stopped to place her order.

“And what can I get you?” the barista asked, and it took Finn a second to figure out that she was talking to him.

“Oh, er, just a small latte, thanks,” he said, avoiding eye contact. He fished out his wallet form his pocket and pulled out the first bank note he could find.

“This is American,” said the barista when she received it.

“Oh, sorry,” he replied, flustered, and found a ten-pound note in his wallet. “Keep the change.”

One of the other girls brought him his latte, which he took before walking away as quickly as he could without spilling. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going. He couldn’t see Rae at any of the tables near him, but some of the tables continued around a corner, so he headed that way and found a whole back room, where she was sitting by the window.

“I just paid ten pounds for a small latte,” he said as he sat down across from her.

“Why would you do that?”

“I didn’t want to risk being found out while waiting to get my change.”

“Pfft. Rich people.”

He shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. “Mm, that is good.”

“I told you.”

He took another sip before stopping and looking up pensively. “Do they only play Beatles covers in here? This is the third one I’ve heard since we arrived.”

“They play whatever they want,” she said before taking a sip of her own beverage.

“…Do they ever play anything of mine?” Finn asked, trying to act disinterested, even though he was very interested.

“Not likely,” said Rae. “It’s not really that sort of place, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” he said. He was trying to figure out if she’d just insulted him.

“It’s just,” she began, lowering her voice, “your music is the sort of stuff fourteen-year-old girls like.”

“And what’s wrong with what fourteen-year-old girls like?” he said. “I’m so sick of people claiming that something is shit because teenage girls like it. I mean, what did you like when you were fourteen?”

“That’s different…”

“Is it?”

“I have good taste in music,” she said.

“You think you’re so special?” he asked. “Guess what—everyone thinks they have good taste in music.”

“It’s not like I’m some sort of music snob or anything,” she replied defensively. “I’m just not into all that mainstream stuff.”

“Wow. That is so original. My mistake.”

She looked down at her drink for a moment. “Okay, can I just ask you something for real?”

“Sure.”

“Do you actually enjoy the sort of music you make?”

He frowned at her. “What kind of question is that?”

“It’s just, you don’t really seem like the target audience for it.”

“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t like it,” he said. “Besides, how would you know what kind of music I make?”

“I told you, I heard that song on the radio—”

“One single and you have me pegged, is that it? Have you ever listened to an album track? Or any of my more recent stuff?”

“No, but—”

“But you like to make judgments anyway, I get it,” he continued. “It’s cooler to say that you hate stuff instead of actually giving it a chance. That’s fine.”

“I didn’t say I hated it.” She sounded like he was really annoying her now, probably because he was right. “It’s just… not my taste.”

“And what is your taste, then?”

“I don’t know…” She looked down again. “Weird indie stuff, I guess.”

Finn rolled his eyes, hoping she wouldn’t notice, but she did.

“What was that for?”

“You’re so hipster that you don’t even care that hipster’s not cool anymore,” he said with a laugh.

“I’m not _hipster_.”

“Spoken like a true hipster.”

“Shut up,” she replied, laughing a little as well. She stopped when she noticed him staring intently past her head. “What is it?”

“There’s a sign for an open mic event here tonight,” he said as he continued to read over her shoulder. He looked back at her and added, “We should go.”

“You want to leave now?”

“No, I mean we should go to the open mic thing tonight!”

She gave him a look of distaste. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on! There could be some weird indie stuff for you.” He raised his eyebrows to try and persuade her.

“Does this mean we have to sneak you out again?”

***

Finn examined his reflection in the slightly warped full-length mirror of his bedroom to make sure he looked presentable for the evening. He smoothed back the sides of his hair and fluffed it up a bit on top before he let out a sigh and just ruffled his hand through it like he didn’t care. There was a reason he usually had a hair stylist before performances.

Not that he was going to be performing or anything, but he still felt the need—or at least the desire—to look halfway decent tonight. At the same time, he didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself while he was out. He changed his shirt three times before settling on one that was flattering yet didn’t scream, “I’m a pop star!”

He checked the time on his phone and realized he was supposed to have met Rae outside five minutes ago, so he gave himself a final once-over in the mirror and headed out.

When he got downstairs, he could hear Ms. Turner’s voice and slowly looked around the corner into the sitting room, where he could see that she was on the phone, having a heated discussion about something that was probably important. Luckily, her back was turned to him, so he quickly moved towards the front door, careful not to make a sound.

Once outside, he spotted Rae’s car in the driveway and hurried down the steps towards her.

“I was just about to leave without you,” Rae grumbled, pulling the car away before Finn could even get buckled in.

“Thanks,” he replied sarcastically as his seatbelt clicked into the lock.

“Why did you change your outfit?” she said when she glanced at him for a moment. She then looked down the road to his left, making sure it was clear for her to turn right.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not what you were wearing this morning.

“That was more of a running errands kind of outfit, not an open mic night kind of outfit,” he explained.

“Do you think anyone will care or notice?”

“You noticed.”

“Wait, you aren’t going to perform tonight, are you?” she asked, suddenly sounding worried.

“No, I don’t want to draw that kind of attention to myself,” he said reassuringly. “Besides, I haven’t even got an instrument with me.”

“Good.” She sounded relieved.

 ***

“This is weird,” Rae said when they sat down at a different table than earlier.

“What’s weird?” Finn asked, taking a look at the makeshift stage area that had been set up.

“I don’t usually go to the same place twice in one day,” she said. “I don’t usually go anywhere at all, though.”

Finn looked over at Rae who was taking a sip of her tea. “What do you usually do, then?”

She shrugged. “Nothing interesting.”

“Okay, so what would you normally be doing on a Wednesday night like this?”

“I dunno. I’d probably be on my computer, wasting time, honestly,” she said. “What about you?”

“The same, actually,” he said. “If I’m not on tour, that is.”

“Jeez.”

“What?”

“Your life is weird.”

“I just said I’d be doing the same as you.”

“But you also go on _tour_ ,” she said as a young man was setting up behind the microphone at the stage area. “That’s weird.”

“Why don’t you forget about that and just enjoy the sounds of these amateurs tonight, yeah?”

Rae scowled at him. “I bet it takes a lot more courage to get up and perform in front of thirty people who have no idea who you are than it does to perform in front of thirty thousand adoring fans.”

“Testing, testing. Check, 1, 2,” said the young man at the microphone.

“You think I couldn’t do it?” Finn asked Rae.

“I think you wouldn’t do it,” she said with a haughty chuckle.

Finn stood up suddenly. “Excuse me.”

“Wait, what are you doing?”

He went over towards a guy with a guitar a couple tables over and started chatting with him, while Rae looked on in confusion. They talked for the duration of the first performer’s song, and the conversation ended with a handshake before Finn returned to the table with Rae.

“Please tell me you didn’t—” she began, but stopped when the guy with the guitar stood behind the microphone and started speaking.

“Next up,” the guy said, “we have open mic newbie, Jack… Daniels.”

Rae frowned at Finn. “Jack Daniels?” she asked. “Was Jose Cuervo taken?”

He just grinned and got up again. “How’s this for courage?” he said to her. “I’m going to play one of my _terrible_ pop songs in front of all these weird indie folks like you.”

When he reached the stage area, the guy handed him his guitar and Finn took a seat behind the microphone.

“Here’s a little something I wrote a while ago,” he said into the mic before he started strumming the guitar. (He wasn’t an awesome guitarist, he’d admit—he had a professional play with him on tour and on his albums—but he could manage a simple chord progression, that didn’t require too much flair.)

“That girl doesn’t know my name,” he sang. “Or if she does, she doesn’t say it to me. When she walks by, she sees right through me. But I see through her, too.”

He noticed that Rae still looked mildly puzzled by his choice to go up and perform, which pleased him. He closed his eyes as he continued to sing the final verse and chorus.

“She smiles at people she doesn’t know. She acts so friendly, which just goes to show. That first impressions are not always so. She doesn’t care that much.

“That girl doesn’t know my name. Or if she does, she doesn’t say it to me. When she walks by, she sees right through me. But I see through her, too.

“And she doesn’t care that much.”

He opened his eyes as the audience applauded. “Thank you,” he said.

Rae was still watching him in disbelief as he returned to their table.

“So?” he said to her. “That courageous enough for you?”

“Did you really write that song?” she asked.

“It’s off my latest album.”

“That doesn’t mean you wrote it.”

“Well, I did,” he said, feeling mildly offended.

“Okay.”

“What did you think?”

“I thought it was… not as terrible as I was expecting,” she said.

“Wow, thanks.”

A young woman with short hair approached the table. “Excuse me,” she said timidly. “This might sound weird, but are you Finn Nelson?”

Finn looked up at her, trying to hide the fear in his eyes. “Who?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

“The guy whose song you just took credit for.”

“Oh, heh, I just say that I wrote it so I can pick up women,” he replied.

“But you look like him,” she said.

“Coincidence.”

“And you sound like him.”

“It’s just an impression. I can do Daffy Duck, too; wanna hear it?”

The young woman appeared confused and looked at Rae, like she was trying to confirm if he was telling the truth.

“Oh, yeah,” said Rae. “We’re both just huge Finn Nelson fans, and some of us take our obsession a little more seriously than others…”

“Okay…” the young woman replied uncertainly, backing away. “Sorry to bother you…”

Finn and Rae looked at each other once the short-haired woman left and started laughing.

“I can’t believe that happened,” said Rae.

“I can’t believe that worked,” said Finn.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To thank Rae for baking him fancy French pastries, Finn takes her out to dinner at her favourite restaurant, the local chippy.

The next morning, after breakfast, Finn sat on the barstool by the island in the kitchen and watched the chaos that was Rae trying to bake fancy things. Ingredients were everywhere, and there were trays and trays of macarons resting all over the place as she frantically stirred melting chocolate to keep it from burning.

She appeared panicked when the oven timer beeped, so Finn offered to help.

“I’ve got this under control,” she said as she moved the chocolate off the stove and put on her oven mitts. She got a tray of baked choux pastries out of the oven and set it on a trivet on the island. “Dammit,” she added as she looked at them. “My eclairs look like peanuts.”

Finn had to admit that she was sort of right; the ends of each eclair were wider than the middle. “I’m sure they taste great, though,” he said reassuringly.

“That doesn’t matter,” she replied, sticking a tray of macarons into the oven next. “If they look stupid, no one will ever buy them.”

“Well, these ones are just for me, and I’ll take ‘em.” He reached over towards the tray to test one, but she swatted his hand with an oven mitt.

“They aren’t ready yet,” she said. “Unless you like your eclairs how you like your women; naked and vacant.”

He reeled back a little in surprise. “Whoa, where did that come from?”

She looked like she was trying not to smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist the opportunity.”

“No, it was funny, just surprising,” he said. “Besides, you don’t know what kind of women I like.”

“I can guess.”

“What I really like are women who are into weird indie music.”

“Hilarious.”

“Why, what kind of women do you like?” he asked, propping up his chin as he leaned forward on the countertop.

She shot him a dirty look as she headed to the refrigerator. “What makes you think I like women?”

“Oh, sorry, I just thought—”

“You thought that I must be into women because I’m not falling all over you, is that it?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, I just… I thought… Okay, maybe a little,” he said sheepishly.

“Not that it is any of your business,” she said, pouring cream into the bowl of a stand mixer, “but I’m straight. In theory.”

“What do you mean, _in theory_?” he asked, but his question was drowned out by the sound of the mixer whisking at full speed.

“I can’t hear you,” she said loudly.

He waited for her to finish whipping the cream before repeating his question.

“I’m a fat girl living in the _middle of nowhere_ , as you call it,” she said as she brought the whipped cream over towards the cooled eclairs. “I don’t meet a lot of guys who are interested.”

“Don’t you have guests staying here all the time?”

“They’re usually old people and couples.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

“Are you saying I’m the only young, single person who’s stayed here?” he asked.

“Yes.” She started slicing open eclairs. “And I don’t normally spend this much time with the guests, either.”

“Am I special?”

“You just demand a lot of attention.”

Finn batted his eyelids playfully. “Oh, Rae, I think you have a soft spot for me.”

“Of course I don’t,” she replied without even looking at him. “I’m dead inside.”

“No, I think you’re happy to have someone young to talk to,” he added. “And it doesn’t hurt that I’m devastatingly handsome.”

Rae snorted a laugh as she piped whipped cream.

“Hey, magazines have called me a _heartthrob_ , okay?”

“Sure.”

“That’s real nice, thanks.”

“Fine, you’re… not terrible to look at, I s’pose,” she said, focused on spreading chocolate over the tops of the eclairs with a spatula. She finally turned her attention to him. “But you were more attractive before you started talking about how attractive you are.”

He grinned. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“I knew you fancied me.”

She scoffed. “Five minutes ago you thought I was a lesbian.”

“Hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said. “I just have this effect on women.”

Rae stood there and glared at him for a minute.

“You’re going to kill me with that offset spatula, aren’t you?” he added.

“I was thinking about it.” She continued to glare at him until the oven beeped again.

“Can I just say,” he said as she got the first tray of macarons out, “how much I appreciate all this work you’re doing, by the way?”

“Yeah, yeah,”

“I mean it,” Finn continued. “I know you’re only doing this because I booked the whole place, so thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said. “Seriously. Don’t.”

“Is there some way I could return the favour? I could buy you something. Anything.”

She looked disgusted at the suggestion. “Ew, no.”

“Dinner. I could buy you dinner,” he offered.

“You don’t need to buy me dinner.”

“Please?” he added with his most winning smile. “I promise I’ll be much more charming at dinner.”

***

Finn managed to get his driver to agree to take him and Rae into town for the evening, without letting Ms. Turner in on the plan. He waited for Rae by the car, just off to the side of the building so that no one would see them.

He smirked when he saw her approach. “That’s not what you were wearing this morning,” he said cheekily.

“I was covered in flour,” said Rae. “Gimme a break.”

Still smirking, Finn opened the car door for her. “After you.”

“Thanks, I think I’ve got it from here,” she said as she took hold of the door so she could close it herself once she was settled in the backseat.

“So, where are we going?” he asked once he ‘d gotten in on the other side.

“I dunno. This was your idea,” she replied.

“Yeah, but I’m doing this for you. We should go wherever you want to go.”

“I guess I know a place, then.” She told the driver the name of the restaurant and he set it into his navigational system.

Finn was starting to recognize the drive into town; it was comforting.

“This is a chippy,” he said when they pulled up in front of the place Rae had suggested.

“Is that a problem?” she asked, like she was challenging him to an argument.

“No, it’s just that we could go _literally anywhere_ for dinner, and you chose this.”

“Are you _above_ fish and chips, now?”

“I love fish and chips,” he said. “I just thought it would be nice to take you somewhere special. Some place you wouldn’t normally go.”

“That sounds awful.”

“Fine,” he said. “In that case, let’s eat.”

Finn followed Rae into the restaurant, keeping his head down and his arms folded in an attempt to avoid detection from any potential fans nearby. He waited until they were sat down with their food to relax his shoulders. Nobody seemed to be paying them any attention whatsoever, so he lifted his head a little and took a look around.

“This seems pretty cool,” he said.

“I suppose,” said Rae.

“It sort of reminds me of a place I used to go back home, actually.”

“And where is that?” she asked.

“Where is what?”

“Your home.”

“Oh, well, I grew up in Hebden Bridge, which is where I was talking about,” he said as he picked up a chip. “But I live in London now.”

She poked at her food with a fork but didn’t eat any of it yet. “What’s that like?”

“London? It’s fine, I guess.” He popped the chip in his mouth with a shrug.

“I’ve always wanted to live in London,” she added.

“It’s a bit overrated, in my opinion.”

“Still, it’s got to be better than here.”

“I don’t know about that…”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, staring down at the plates on the table in front of them, like they were both deep in thought. But really, Finn just didn’t know what else to say.

“Do you happen to know if there’s a decent club around here?” he finally asked, as it was getting too awkward for him to remain silent.

“A club?” said Rae, sceptically.

“I need to go somewhere fun, you know?” he replied. “Get a drink, dance a bit, not worry about my responsibilities for a little while.”

“What responsibilities?” she said derisively.

“Is there anywhere to go have fun around here?” he asked, ignoring her question.

She sighed. “I might know of a place.”

***

Once they’d finished at the chippy, Finn and Rae walked several blocks—she insisted on walking—to a local dance club that she suggested. When they got inside, Finn noticed that it was more like a pub on the main floor; the cover fee wasn’t charged until they tried to go upstairs. As it turned out, Thursday night was “Ladies’ Night,” which Rae hated, but it meant she got in for free.

“I haven’t been here in ages,” she said as they made their way up the stairs.

“And here I had you pegged as a party animal,” Finn replied sarcastically.

It was still fairly early and there weren’t many people dancing yet, so the two of them ordered drinks and sat down at a small table in the corner. Despite the lack of bodies in the club, however, Finn noticed that it was rather warm in there. He wondered what it was going to be like when the night was in full swing.

As he settled into his seat, he rolled up the sleeves of his cardigan to moderate his temperature a little better.

“I meant to ask,” Rae said after taking a sip of her drink, “what’s on your arm?”

Finn looked down at his arm, expecting to see something weird there. “You mean my tattoo?” he asked.

“I know it’s a tattoo,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I just can’t tell what it is.”

He pushed his left sleeve up past his elbow to expose his forearm. “It’s silhouettes of trees,” he said as he rotated his arm to give her the full three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the tattoo that wrapped around it.

“Why did you choose that?”

“My mum used to take me on nature walks a lot as a kid,” he explained. “Before she died.”

Rae suddenly looked sympathetic instead of judgmental. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was eight years ago.”

“Still…” She looked down for a moment before returning her attention to his arm. “I can see something else showing from under your sleeve. Is that another one?”

He started to unbutton his cardigan so he could show her, while she picked up her drink and took a sip of it, turning to look away like she was trying not to watch him take his clothes off. Once his cardigan was removed, his lifted the sleeve of his t-shirt to reveal the full tattoo.

“It’s a bit embarrassing,” he said, “but I got my favourite lyric done.”

The tattoo took up a large portion of his upper arm. The text of it read, “take these broken wings and learn to fly,” in a script font, with birds flying around it.

“You think that’s embarrassing?” Rae said with a laugh. “You should see mine.

She pulled down the neckline of her shirt to reveal a tattoo of a flower near her collarbone.

“It’s an orchid,” she said. “I don’t even like orchids, but I refused to get a rose, because everyone gets a rose.”

“It looks good though,” said Finn.

“Whatever,” she added as she pulled her neckline back up. “I was eighteen and desperate to claim my body as my own, or something.”

“Is that the only one, then?” he asked.

“The only one I’m willing to show you.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Well, well, well…”

“Don’t get any funny ideas; it’s on my leg.”

“Will you at least tell me what it is?”

“No. It’s a secret. Nobody knows.” She took another sip of her drink.

“What about when you wear shorts?”

“I don’t wear shorts.”

“Well, what about when you… are with someone…?” he asked, looking down at his own glass. When he looked up, she was glaring at him. “I just mean, _somebody_ must know what it is, besides you and the tattoo artist,” he added quickly.

“Unless I’m sleeping with the tattoo artist,” she said. She didn’t show any indication if she was joking or not.

“Are you?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes. “Let’s just say that no one’s seen it since I got it.”

“And how long ago was that?”

“None of your business.”

Finn noticed there were more people around than there had been when they arrived, so he stood up. “Come on,” he said to Rae.

“What?” she asked, remaining seated.

“We’re going to dance.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun,” he said as he pulled her to her feet. “Don’t you ever do stuff because it’s fun?”

“Not stuff that makes me look stupid,” she replied.

“Then you are missing out.” He was about to give up and go dance without her, but a new song came on and he stopped in his tracks. “No way,” he said.

“What is it?”

“Don’t you recognize this song?” he asked. “You think it’s really annoying, as I recall.”

“Oh, god,” said Rae.

“This is a sign that we have to dance.”

“Or it’s a sign that this place sucks.”

“Maybe it’s both,” he said. “Besides, the other people seem to be enjoying it.”

“They are clearly more drunk than I am.”

“Or they don’t all have sticks up their asses.”

“You aren’t going to insult me into dancing,” she said.

He pulled on her arms to get her moving. “Sure I am.”

She held her ground firmly and didn’t budge. “I didn’t even want to go out with you in the first place.”

“ _Go out_ with me?”

“You know what I meant.” She scowled. “You’re so obnoxious.”

“I’m sure I can find someone else to dance with me, then,” he added, letting go of her.

“Please do.”

A quick glance around revealed to Finn several young women he could try dancing with, so he approached one at random. He tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention, which seemed to startle her at first, but she didn’t look to be too upset about it.

“Are you having a good time?” he asked in her ear, so he could be heard over the music.

“Yeah, you?” she replied.

“I am, yeah, but my friend over there,”—he pointed at Rae who was just standing off to the side with her arms folded, watching him in bemusement—“she’s a bit shy and needs some encouragement to get dancing.”

“That’s too bad,” the woman said as she kept moving to the music.

“It is,” said Finn, swaying in time with her. “Do you think you could convince her to join us?”

The woman seemed a bit puzzled by this request, but said, “Sure,” before heading over towards Rae.

Finn watched as Rae looked more and more confused while the woman talked to her, until, shortly, the woman hooked her arm around Rae’s and dragged her onto the dance floor. The woman appeared proud of herself when she managed to get Rae all the way to where Finn was waiting.

“I knew you could persuade her,” he told the woman.

“I’m not dancing,” said Rae.

He grabbed her arm again and pulled her closer as the woman closed in behind her. They nudged her back and forth to the rhythm of the music.

“Would you look at that?” he said. “You’re dancing!”

“Not on purpose,” Rae grumbled as she was jostled from side to side.

“I knew you loved this music,” he added with a grin.

“I’m going to murder you.”

Lucky for him, the song ended before she had a chance to do so.

“Should we all get a drink, or something?” the woman suggested.

“I s’pose,” said Finn, though he exchanged confused glances with Rae. Was this woman just going to hang around them all evening?

“I’ve never done anything like this,” she added once they were sitting again.

“Anything like what?” asked Rae.

“You know, a threesome.”

Finn and Rae looked at each other again, wide-eyed, but didn’t say anything to one another until they were back in his car.

They sat in the backseat as they were driven back to the B&B, looking out the car windows in opposite directions. They slowly turned to face each other, and then looked down in embarrassment.

“So, she was kind of a weirdo, huh?” he said, staring at his hands. “Thinking that we wanted—”

“I know,” Rae cut in. “Let’s never speak of it again.”

***

“Well,” Rae said as she and Finn approached the front door of the Bouchtat B&B, “thanks for dinner, I guess.”

“You’re welcome, I guess,” he replied.

They walked into the house and found Ms. Turner and Rae’s mother in the sitting room.

“There they are!” said Mrs. Bouchtat when she looked up and saw Finn and Rae come in, startling both of them.

“Mum, what are you—”

“I need to speak with you, Mr. Nelson,” said Ms. Turner. She looked very serious. “Now.”

Finn and Rae glanced at each other again; neither of them seemed to know what was going on.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime, Rae?” said Mrs. Bouchtat.

“I’m twenty; I don’t have a bedtime,” Rae replied.

“You probably don’t want to stick around for this, though,” said Finn, figuring he was in for a bit of a lecture from Ms. Turner.

“‘Night, then,” Rae said to him before heading off towards the kitchen with her mother.

Finn watched them leave and then turned to face Ms. Turner. “Can I just say—”

“What the fuck were you thinking?” she cut in.

He rolled his eyes and headed towards the staircase up to the guest rooms. “I’m going to bed.”

“You can’t just go out by yourself like that,” she said as she followed him upstairs.

“I wasn’t by myself,” he replied. “I was with Rae. And Darryl drove us.”

“Anything could have happened to you! And you shouldn’t go anywhere with someone you don’t even know.”

He was so sick of her talking down to him like that. “I know her,” he said.

“You’ve known her for two days,” said Ms. Turner when they stopped outside of Finn’s door.

“She doesn’t want anything from me.”

“That’s what she says now.”

“She doesn’t even care who I am.”

“That’s worse.”

“How is that worse?” he asked.

“She doesn’t appreciate your time,” she said. “She’s going to use you for your money and then discard you.”

“I highly doubt that,” he said with his hand on the doorknob, ready for this conversation to end. “Besides, it’s not even like that. We’re just friends. Er, friendly. Friend-ish.”

“Mhm. And where did you go tonight?”

“Out.”

“And who paid?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“Mr. Nelson,” she added, blocking him from entering his room. “You are not to leave the premises without my company. Understood?”

“But—”

“I’m responsible for your security and well-being while you’re here.”

“Fine!” he said with an exasperated sigh. “I won’t leave the premises. But you won’t tell me who I can and cannot hang out with.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Nelson.”

“Yeah, whatever.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Finn is told not to leave the premises again, he finds other ways to hang out with Rae.

Sunlight poured in through the window as Finn lay in bed, debating whether or not it was worth getting up at all today. He was _grounded_ , after all—wasn’t he too old for that? Still, he was unable to leave the premises alone without risking the wrath of Ms. Turner.

Eventually, he did get out of bed and walked over to the window, where he noticed something he hadn’t before—perhaps he hadn’t looked out the window yet. But there was a swimming pool around the back of the house. A man was tending to it, who Finn presumed was Mr. Bouchtat. It wasn’t an extremely large pool, from what Finn could tell, but it gave him an idea anyway.

“What are you doing later?” he said to Rae when he poked his head into the kitchen after the others had eaten breakfast without him.

She stopped rolling out pastry and looked over at him impatiently. “Why do you ask?”

“We should go swimming!” he said.

“You can go right ahead,” she replied as she returned to her task at hand.

“I’m not going swimming by myself.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not safe and it’s not fun.”

Rae exhaled loudly, like she had given up arguing. “Did you even bring a swimsuit?”

Finn had to think for a minute. “No. But maybe I could borrow one.”

“I, er, don’t think I have one that will suit your style…”

“I meant maybe your dad has an extra or something.”

“Stepdad,” she said offhandedly. “But I don’t think it would fit you. There might be something left behind from when my cousin was here, though. He’s about your size. I can check after I’m done.”

“Cool,” he replied, shooting her with finger guns.

He left the kitchen and went back to his room to entertain himself for a couple of hours while he waited for Rae to finish what she was doing. He waited until well after ten to make sure she’d be done before heading back downstairs.

“You’re still working?” he asked when he found her still there in the kitchen, rolling out pastry.

“I’m making the pastry for tomorrow’s croissants,” she explained. “I have to do lots of turns.”

“How many turns left?”

“One after this.”

“Well, you can let it chill while we go swimming and then do the last one later.”

“Oh, right,” she said. “I forgot about that.” She folded the pastry dough and wrapped it in cling film before sticking it in the refrigerator. “Let’s go,” she added, taking off her apron.

“Did you find any swim trunks for me to wear?” he asked as he followed her through to her family’s dining room.

“I’ll take a look now,” she said. She trudged up another staircase and Finn continued to follow.

“Is that your room?” he asked as they passed a bedroom with the door open.

“Yes.”

He took a peek inside. “I was expecting you to have more stuff on the walls.”

“I did when I was younger, but I took it all down a while ago.”

“But now how will I know what bands you like?”

“That secret dies with me,” she said.

She opened a linen cupboard in the hallway and pulled a box down off one of the higher shelves. Inside was an assortment of clothes, including a pair of swim trunks.

“Here,” she added, tossing them over to Finn. “They should be clean.”

“Er, thanks.”

She grabbed a towel from the cupboard and handed it to him as well. “You can change in the bathroom, over there.”

He watched as she put the box of clothes back in the cupboard and went into her room, shutting the door, before he made his way into the bathroom to change. He emerged shortly afterwards with the swim trunks on and the towel wrapped around his waist, waiting for Rae, who took a couple more minutes to get ready.

“You’d better be careful,” he said to her when she came out of her room with a towel wrapped around her entire body, from under her arms nearly down to the floor. “I can almost see your ankles.”

“Ha ha.”

He motioned towards the staircase. “Shall we?”

She led the way down the stairs and outside to the pool, where they draped their towels over a couple of deck chairs.

“Is that your swimming costume?” he asked when he gave her a once-over.

“What’s wrong with it?” she said, looking down at her tankini and skirt.

“It covers nearly as much as the towel did.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “So?”

“You might as well go swimming in a floor-length gown, at this point,” he said.

“What do you care?”

“I was hoping to see your secret tattoo.”

Rae tugged on the hem of her skirt to pull it down a couple of inches.

“Last one in’s a rotten egg!” he shouted as he made a running leap into the pool.

She sat down on the edge of the pool and lowered one foot in. When he resurfaced, he managed to catch a glimpse of a lightning bolt shaped tattoo on her upper thigh. He swam over to her as she lowered the rest of herself into the pool as well.

“Why do you have a lightning bolt on your leg?” he asked, obviously pleased with his discovery.

She looked embarrassed. “What?”

“I saw the tattoo on your thigh. It looks like a lightning bolt,” he said. “Big _Harry Potter_ fan, are you?”

“That’s not what it’s for,” she said.

“What’s it for, then?”

“It’s sort of a visual pun, I s’pose.”

Finn continued to tread water next to her even though it was shallow enough for him to stand. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s a lightning bolt on my thunder thighs. Get it?”

“Erm, okay…”

“It was my attempt at taking ownership of a part of my body that I hated,” she said, like she was still embarrassed. “I dunno.”

“That’s depressing,” he said, and she gave him an inquisitive look. “I mean that we live in a world that makes girls hate their own bodies.”

“I’m sure the supermodels you date don’t have any problem with that.”

“Why do you think you know what kind of girls I date?” he asked, holding onto the edge of the pool behind him to let his legs float.

“Well, you did date a supermodel, didn’t you?”

“Once. Wait, how do you even know that?”

“I dunno,” said Rae. “I just picked it up somewhere.”

“Did you Google me?”

“Do you want to swim, or do you want to just float here talking about your love life?”

“If I said the latter, would you judge me for it?”

She looked unimpressed as she swam away from him. He continued to float for a minute, but when it seemed like she wasn’t coming back, he swam over to her.

“If you wanted to know more about me, you could just ask,” he said as he caught up to her.

“I didn’t Google you, I just heard about it somewhere,” she said before swimming away from him again.

“If it makes you feel any better, she hated parts of her body, too,” he called after her.

“Whoop-dee-fucking-do,” she replied.

He swam up to her once more, popping up out of the water in front of her. “Are you jealous?”

“What?”

“I only went out with her a couple of times, and neither of us were really interested.”

“Why do you think I care?” she asked.

“Because you got all angry and swam away,” he said.

“I’m not angry, and we came here to swim, didn’t we?” She continued towards the far side of the pool.

He quickly caught up with her underwater and tapped her on the shoulder. “Tag! You’re it!” he said when they came back up to the surface. He dove back down into the water and swam away as fast as he could.

By the time she got close to him, she only managed to tag him on the leg before swimming away.

“Hey!” he called out to her from across the pool. “You have to tag above the waist, or it doesn’t count.”

“Says who?” she called back.

“Says me.”

She frowned and he ducked under the surface of the water again. He managed to avoid her for a while, but when she almost caught him on the shoulder, he twisted his body away and grabbed her by the arm instead.

“I didn’t even tag you yet,” she said when they both popped their heads out of the water.

“It was a pre-emptive strike.”

“That’s cheating.”

“I never play by the rules.” He smirked as he continued to hold her arm under the water, drawing her closer. “Come here, I want to tell you something.”

“Mr. Nelson!”

They both looked over towards the house where Ms. Turner was standing on the pool deck with her arms crossed like she was furious.

“Get over here,” she commanded. “Now.”

“But—”

“I’m not debating this.”

Reluctantly, Finn let go of Rae’s arm and swam over to the edge of the pool, where he climbed out and got his towel. “Later, Rae,” he said to her before heading inside with Ms. Turner, most likely to get yelled at again.

***

That evening Finn was sitting up in bed, reading something on his phone, when there was a knock at the door. He got up to answer it and found Rae standing on the other side with am armload of clothing and a box.

“You left your clothes in the bathroom,” she said. “I thought you might want them back.”

He took the clothing and the box from her, though he wasn’t sure what the box was for.

“I also brought you the rest of the macarons,” she added.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Okay, well, ‘night, then.”

“Wait,” he said before she could walk away. He stepped aside in the doorway of his suite. “Come in for a second.”

She looked hesitant as she entered, and he shut the door behind her before placing the stuff in his arms onto the top of a nearby chest of drawers.

“I wanted to apologize for Ms. Turner's behaviour today,” he added. “It was kind of rude.”

Rae nodded like it was okay.

“It’s just that she doesn’t want me to hang out with you.”

“Oh,” she said.

“She thinks you just want my money.”

“I don’t care about your money.”

“I know,” he said. “She doesn’t get that some people aren’t materialistic or star-struck.”

“To me it’s like you’re not even famous,” she said. “That’s how little I care about it.”

Finn leaned against the door. “That’s why I like spending time with you.”

Rae looked down at the floor. “So what was it you wanted to tell me in the pool?” she asked.

“Oh, er, it doesn’t matter,” he said, scratching the back of his head nervously.

“Okay.”

He watched her head over towards the window.

“How do you like the room, then?” she said.

“It’s fine.”

She looked back at him. “Only fine?”

He walked over towards the bed, which was now between them. “The bed’s a little firm for my taste,” he said.

“Is it?”

“See for yourself.” He climbed on top of the unmade bed and lay down with his head on the pillow. “Come on,” he added when he noticed her just standing there, watching him sceptically.

She sat down on the opposite side of the bed. “It feels fine to me,” she said.

“You have to lie down to get a real sense of it.”

“Fine.” She lay down next to him, and they both stared up at the ceiling. “It’s still not that bad.”

“Your bed must be terrible.”

“Maybe you’re just spoiled.”

“Next time you’re in London, you’re staying in my guest room,” he said. “That’s a proper mattress.”

“Next time I’m in London?” she said with a laugh. “As if I have all this time and money to go to London.”

“I could cover the cost of your trip, so that’s not an issue.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“I mean it.”

“Then you’re being stupid.”

He turned on his side to face her. “Why is that stupid?”

“I can’t go visit you in London,” she said.

“Why not?”

She looked over at him. “I don’t even know you.”

“Yes, you do,” he said. He let his hand rest over hers on top of her stomach. “You know me better than most people.”

“Well, you don’t know me.”

“I’d like to.” He inched his face closer to hers. “I mean, I already think you’re incredible.”

“Finn…” she said as she turned her head back up to face the ceiling. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?”

“I get that maybe you’re sick of skinny girls and want to try something different,” Rae said, sitting upright. “But I’m tired of being that something different for people.”

Finn sat up as well. “I’m not looking to ‘try something different,’ I just wanted—”

“An easy target.” She stood next to the bed with her arms folded. “I get it.”

He got out of the bed on the other side. “Hold on, that’s not what I was going to say.”

She tried to leave but he intercepted her at the door.

“Don’t just put words in my mouth.”

“Please get out of my way.”

“I really like you,” he said.

“I’m sure you say that to all of them,” she replied as she went for the door handle.

“Would you just listen to me for a second without jumping to conclusions?” He placed his hand on the door so she couldn’t open it. “I’m sorry that I gave you the wrong impression about me. But I didn’t think you were ‘an easy target,’ Rae. I just wanted to kiss you because I like you.”

She didn’t say anything; she just stared at the floor.

“Clearly you don’t feel the same way, so I’m sorry for that, too,” he added, dropping his hand.

“I… I can’t,” she said. “I mean, you leave in three days.”

“Why’d you think I wanted you to come to London?”

“Okay, so I spend one more week with you, and then what?” she asked as she opened the door. “Don’t worry. You’ll forget about me soon enough.”

***

Lying in bed with his headphones on, staring at the ceiling, Finn couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how he’d messed stuff up with Rae. If he hadn’t tried to kiss her, he probably would have had a chance to spend more time with her. As it was, he hadn’t seen her since Friday.

He was startled when Ms. Turner walked into the room, and he quickly tried to cover himself with the blanket, as he was just in his boxers. “Jeez, can you knock?”

“I did,” she replied. “Besides, I’ve seen it all before.

“Not mine!” he said, holding the blankets up to his chin. “And I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Oh, please, as if I care,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I wanted to check on you since you haven’t been downstairs in two days.”

Finn looked over to his right where there was a pile of fast food wrappers from the last couple of days—he’d gotten Darryl to bring him stuff so he wouldn’t have to go downstairs. That and the empty box of macarons.

“Are you all right?” she asked. She sounded legitimately concerned for the first time, possibly ever.

“I’m fine,” he answered coldly.

She glanced over at the mounds of clothing spilling out of his luggage. “It doesn’t look like you’re packed for tomorrow.”

“I’ll do it once you leave.”

“Fine,” she said. “Remember, we leave early tomorrow morning. You’d better be ready.”

“I will,” he grumbled.

As soon as Ms. Turner was gone, Finn kicked the blanket away and looked over at the mess that was his luggage. He really didn’t want to deal with that yet. He got up to start packing, anyway, but stopped when he noticed a pad of paper and a pen sitting on the desk in his room.

The packing would just have to wait.

***

The next morning, Finn’s suitcases were packed and lined up next to the door, all set to be carried off to the car.

“Ready?” Ms. Turner said to him after knocking on his door again.

“Almost,” he replied, looking down at a folded piece of paper in his hands as he sat on the edge of the bed. “I just have to do something quickly.”

It was barely five-thirty when he got to the kitchen, but Rae was already there, kneading dough.

“Hey,” he said, startling her again.

“I thought you were leaving,” she said when she saw him standing there.

He placed his hand on the counter of the island. “I am,” he said. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Okay,” she replied, returning her attention to the dough.

“And I’m sorry for, you know, everything,” he added. He watched her but she didn’t respond. “I’d hug you, but you’re covered in flour. And I bet you don’t do hugs.”

She smiled a little out of the corner of her mouth, just for a second.

“Good luck with your bakery,” he said, backing away. “Take care.”

He left the folded piece of paper on the counter before he walked out. He’d written her a letter, hoping that it would make her listen to him without interrupting or coming to her own conclusions.

 _“Dear Rae,”_ the letter read _. “Once again, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I made you think that my interest in you was anything but genuine. It’s true that we don’t know each other very well, but you’d realize I’m not like that once you got to know me better, I’m sure. (Insert angel face emoji here.)_

_“Unfortunately, I ruined everything and I had to leave you alone, which was the last thing I wanted to do. I regret not spending these last couple days with you. Let’s not mince words; I’m an idiot._

_“If there’s any chance I didn’t completely blow it, I’ve included my private email address so we can keep in touch. (Not even Ms. Turner knows about this one.)_

_“I’d really like to hear from you._

_“Yours most truly, Finn.”_

He sat in the backseat of the car with Ms. Turner as Darryl drove them back to Heathrow so Finn could complete the second leg of his North American tour. They had just made it onto the main road when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled it out and found that he had received an email.

 _“You are an idiot,”_ it read. _“(Insert sticking out tongue emoji here.)”_

He smiled.

***

“I see you didn’t get a new mattress since I was here last,” Finn said as he sat on the end of the bed in the same room he’d stayed in the last time he was at the Bouchtat B&B, several months ago.

“It’s not that bad,” said Rae, standing in front of him.

“Would you sleep on it?”

She smirked. “That depends what you’re asking me.”

He stood up with mock indignation. “Rae, what kind of man do you take me for?”

“I’m not sure yet,” she said.

“We’ve talked every day for six months,” he replied. “I think you know me well enough by now.”

“In that case, I suspect you didn’t come back for a whole month just to write your next album.”

“Are you questioning my motives?”

“I’m straight-up doubting them.”

He smiled and held onto her hand. “You’re more clever than I thought.”

“I have to get to work, though,” she said, looking down at their hands.

He lifted her chin with his knuckle. “Can’t anyone else in that bakery make stuff?”

“Not as well as I can.”

“Soon you’ll be running the place, I suppose,” he said as he let go of her.

“I don’t know about that.”

“I do.”

She gave him a shy smile and reached for the door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait,” he said, taking a couple large steps to block her way. “You forgot something.”

“Forgot what?” she asked, and he kissed her.

“That,” he said with a smirk.

“Well, your album had better be a huge success,” she said.

“Why’s that?”

She placed her hand on his chest. “Because I only want you for your money.”

“Oh, of course,” he said. “I’ll get right on that.”


End file.
